Justice and Mercy
by They Call Me Alex
Summary: My version of Stormbreaker. What if Ian didn't die? If MI6 just wanted Alex a little more earlier than planned? Not sure about ratings. Not Slash.


**A/N: Blame the plot bunnies.**

**Srsly, it isn't my fault. It just…well…came to me in the shower. **

**A lot of people are into resurrected Ian and Yassen, but I thought, what if they never died?**

**Smart aren't I ^^**

**This is also just my version of Stormbreaker. I'll probably do a sequel for Point Blanc and onwards…but that's only if people like the idea. Most of the start I just stole from Stormbreaker and warped it, so just be aware of that…please ^^ **

**Disclaimer: *Puppy dog eyes* Anthony Horotwiz just won't give up those book rights.**

_**This chapter would also be known as '**__**Funeral Voices**__**' in the book**_

_**Chapter One of Justice and Mercy**_

_We can't be oblivious_

_We are not ignorant_

_Blood on our hearts_

_Blood on our hands_

_We're human we reason _

_Were breathing, protecting the living_

_And dying, surviving, we're trying_

_So breathe in safety, come home safely_

_***_

When the phone rings at three in the morning, it's never good news.

Alex Rider was woken by the first ring. His eyes flickered open but for a moment he stayed completely still in his bed, lying on his back with his head resting on the pillow.

He heard a bedroom door open and a creak of wood as somebody went downstairs. The phone rang a second time and he looked at the alarm clock glowing beside him. 3.02 a.m. There was a noise as someone picked up the phone in the hall.

He rolled out of bed and walked over to the open window, his bare feet pressing down the carpet pile. The moonlight spilled onto his chest and shoulders.

Alex was fourteen, already well-built, with the body of an athlete.

His hair, cut short apart from two strands hanging over his forehead, was fair. His eyes were brown and serious. For a moment, he stood silently, half –hidden in the shadow, looking out.

t was a dead night. The air was thick with cold and the sky was crowded with black clouds.

Alex just turned back to his room when he heard his uncle, Ian, answer the phone.

"Yes, it's me."

There was silence while the person on the other side of the line talked, then…

"You can't be serious!"

A short pause.

"Tulip, he isn't ready…"

Alex had never heard the man sound so worried. Ian Rider was, and always had been, a calm, collected man.

He thought of the man who had been his only relation for as long as he could remember.

He had never known his own parents. They had died in a plane crash, a few weeks after he'd been born.

He had been brought up by his father's brother (never "uncle" –Ian Rider hated that word) and had spent most of his fourteen years in the same terraced house in Chelsea, London, between King's Road and the river.

But it was only now Alex realized just how little he knew about the man.

A banker.

People said Alex looked quite like him.

Ian Rider was always travelling. A quiet, private man who liked good wine, classical music and books.

Who didn't seem to have any girlfriends…in fact he didn't seem to have any friends at all. He had kept himself fit, had never smoked and had dressed expensively. But that wasn't enough. That wasn't a picture of life, it was a thumbnail sketch.

Alex got quickly and quietly into his bed, turning his face toward the wall and pretended to be asleep as there was a _click_, and light flooded in from an open door.

"Alex…?"

He got no response.

"Alex, don't pretend. I know you're awake."

The teen just laid still and waited for his uncle to leave so he could get to sleep.

Ian advanced the bed, sitting on the edge next to Alex's feet and pulled the doona away from his nephews grasp gently, sighing.

"You don't know who you're hiding from, Alex."

"I know," came the muffled reply.

"There are some people coming from the bank. They want to meet you."

Now Alex was awake.

"What, now?" he asked, turning onto his back to look at his uncle.

"Yes, now." His uncle said softly, pulling back the bed cover more, hinting for Alex to get out of bed. "So get yourself reasonable and come downstairs."

Alex had never wondered more what Ian Rider did at the bank.

* * *

**A/N: YAY! The first chapter is DONE! LOL, what do you think of the idea? Is it original? I don't know if it's been done before.**

**This is the first AR story I've done that hasn't had K- Unit LOL!**

**Do you think I'm making Ian OOC? It's hard not to, considering he's not really in ANY of the books, ha ha. **

_**LML :)**_


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